Summer Love
by Quixotic1619
Summary: One Direction fanfic. Liam is taking a summer off from being famous before going on tour when he meets Ellie who has no idea who he is. The story of their summer and what happens when it's over. You were mine for the summer, now I know it's nearly over. Feels like snow in September, but I always will remember. You were my summer love. You always will be my summer love.


Chapter One

Ellie

The breeze tickles my face. It smells like flowers and springtime although it is nearing the end of May. People are spread out upon the green, like sprinkles on a cake. Playing frisbee here, picnicking over there.

I am leaning against the trunk of favorite tree, reading my favorite book, in my favorite place; Central Park. My black lab, Charlie, is sprawled out on his back, one front leg straight up in the air, snoozing the day away.

As I continue through the pages of The Martian Chronicles, I routinely look up at a pair of boys tossing a frisbee back and forth. With each return they are edging closer and closer to my space. All I can think about is what will happen if I get hit and have to go to my audition tomorrow with a black eye. Charlie twitches in his sleep and I rub his belly before returning to my book.

"You're dog is adorable." A deep voice feeds into my mind out of no where and I jump in surprise.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." I look up, shielding my eyes from the sun, to see that the speaker is a boy about my age, with short, light brown hair sticking out from under a baseball hat. I can't see his eyes because currently he's wearing a huge pair of aviator sunglasses.

"Thanks," I say, rubbing Charlie's revealed belly. "You can pet him if you'd like. His name is Charlie. He's a rescue." The boy bends down, stroking and cooing to Charlie, who is now waving his tail ferociously. He slips off his sunglasses and I can finally see his face. My self confidence plummets when I realize how attractive he is, with eyes the color of honey and perfect lips that give way to brilliantly white teeth. And his eyelashes, they're so long! It's like they go on for miles.

"I wish I could have a dog." He replies wistfully, more to himself than to me.

"Why don't you?" I ask. For the first time he turns towards me, and his honey brown eyes meet mine. I have to remind myself to breathe because the sudden butterflies in my stomach are suffocating me.

"I travel a lot. Most hotels won't allow me to have a dog." His brows are furrowed as if he's confused about something. Mentally I begin to backpedal, wondering if I've said something wrong. But then his face breaks into a huge grin as if he's discovered something fantastic.

"That's a shame. Dogs are the best friends anyone could ask for. Besides maybe horses. Horses are pretty awesome too." I offer him a smile and he nods thoughtfully at my comment.

"I have to agree with you there. I'm glad you didn't mention cats, though. They're so moody." I like his voice. He's got an accent-British maybe?- and when he speaks his sentences flow. Something about him is familiar though, but I can't put my finger on why. I decide that I've probably seen him around the park before. It's a big city, but most people in it are creatures of habit. Me being a major offender. I come to the park on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays making sure to leave my apartment by 11:30 so I can get to the park by noon.

"Cats aren't _that_ bad." I giggle. He has settled down on the grass next to me and Charlie is practically sitting in his lap.

"He likes you. That means you're a good person." I say, stroking the velvety fur of Charlies' ears. The boy offers me another smile, a softer one this time.

"I've never met anyone who bases their opinions of people off of their dogs' opinion. It's an interesting philosophy."

"Well. Charlie is always right. He hated my ex-boyfriend, and he was obviously right because that relationship ended horribly." I chuckle half-heartedly, trying to hide the pain I still feel over that.

"Did your ex do something horrid?" he asks, searching my face.

"Yeah, he um, he was my boyfriend from high school. We'd dated since sophomore year. I was a year younger than him and we ended up going to college on opposite ends of the country. He went to Oregon and I decided to follow my dreams and come here to study at Juilliard. We got into a fight before Spring Break and when he came out to see me he proposed as a way to fix things, and while in the middle of proposing he admitted that he had slept with some girl at a party. It was awful." my eyes are trained on my hands as I spill my entire sob story to a complete stranger. _Oh my god,_ I think to myself,_ I just spilled my entire sob story to a complete stranger. What the hell is wrong with me?_ I have a mini panic attack in my mind before I console myself with the fact that my dog likes him, so he must be alright. I am expecting him to think it's ridiculous that I'm still bitter over this, but he surprises me when he says,

"I'm so sorry that he did that to you. I've been there. It sucks."

"It's like everything you knew just falls down around you and you're left with nothing and no one. What's even worse is that I later found out that it wasn't just some random girl. It was my best friend and this affair had been occurring since my senior year. His name was Will. But I'm kind of glad that he did that to me though, you know? It made me channel all that time and emotion into my career and I started getting callbacks and small roles. I figured out how to be independent and I realized that heart ache flips your world around and while midnight is depressing and you forget how to laugh, it doesn't last forever. Eventually dark turns to light and you can either accept that and move on or wallow in it." I shrug and see him nodding thoughtfully.

"That's a bloody brilliant way to look at things." I release the breath I've been holding in.

"I'm glad you don't think that it's too hipster. I've gotten that before." he lets out a loud laugh and the skin by his eyes crinkles.

"Now that I've spilled my guts to you, it's your turn." I demand, but he is no longer paying attention to me. He has slipped his sunglasses back on and is glancing around nervously.

"I'd love to but I've gotta jet. I thank you for the lovely conversation and I hope to see you around here again?" before I can answer he has already turned around and is jogging towards a tall, muscular man waiting by a car at the curb. Before he slips in he pauses and raises his hand in a wave. With that, he is gone.

Later in the evening, I am eating take out Chinese food (as I always do on Sunday nights) and watching the musical of the week. Charlie has his head in my lap, waiting for my to drop some noodles or fried rice as the opening strains of "Greased Lightening" float through the air. Despite my love for Olivia Newton John and John Travolta, and Grease in general, I cannot bring myself to focus on watching it. Instead, my mind keeps playing my afternoon on repeat and everything seems to have a honey colored tint to it because when I close my eyes, I can still see his. He was fun and easy to talk to and sweet. He didn't think I was crazy after I told him about my crazy dog philosophy or my awful experience with romance. Or maybe he did and he was just too polite to say anything. However, his departure was abrupt. One moment we were laughing and having a grand time and the next he was acting like a spy whose identity had been blown, getting up and running off towards a mysterious car. Maybe my sob story really did freak him out. He did say that he hoped to see me again, so maybe I didn't. As I am mulling over these events I come to the realization that seeing him again is highly unlikely for one simple reason. In the heat of the moment, we forgot the most important thing; our names.


End file.
